Seven Months
by daysandweeks
Summary: Scorpius and Rose are forced to end their relationship after a fling from Scorpius's past announces she is pregnant, but the two struggle to forget one another, and finally to reunite.
1. Part One

**A/N:** _This was written for RDucky's "Look Right" challenge over at the HPFC forum. This story has three parts, which I posted all at once. Please read and review! I promise a happy ending!_

**SEVEN MONTHS**

Part One

He remembered the last time he saw her, with her hair caught up in a tight bun, one fallen scarlet curl hanging deliciously down her neck. She was sitting at the piano, her fingers trailing along the keys fluidly as she played a simple, tragic-sounding piece that made him feel terribly nostalgic for a relationship they had never properly had. He came up behind her and watched her playing, wanting desperately to speak to her for one final time but not daring to interrupt the moment. He watched as a single tear fell down her cheek and was startled that she could play so beautifully by memory while feeling such turbulent emotions. He remained like that, watching her, until she ended the song, placing her hands in her lap soon afterwards. His own hands moved to her shoulders and he wished that her shirt left them bare, for then he would get to touch her bare skin one final time.

She had known he was there, he supposed, for she was not startled by his touch. She didn't dare turn around for a moment, and instead said to the piano before her, "I can't believe it's over."

Neither spoke and she finally turned to face him. She had stopped crying, and though he'd never known her to wear much make-up, a black trail had formed along her face—her tear leaving its final mark. He rubbed at it absent-mindedly, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin against his fingers. Only weeks before he'd never touched her, but now he could not imagine a life without her, a life without the happiness and security of her touch, her voice, her smell.

She stood up now, placing her hands against his cheeks as well. She was tall, though not as tall as he was so though she had to stand on her tip-toes to kiss him he did not have to bend over to aid her. The kiss started off surprisingly gentle at first. Her lips were soft as they grazed against his but he could not stand such a passionless goodbye when their affair had been so spectacularly fervent. He kissed her back, hard and demanding, reaching his hands up to her hair where he tore the tie out so that her auburn locks fell across her shoulders. He pushed the neckline of her shirt lower, exposing her shoulders and the tops of her breasts. She let out a whimper, and she felt him shudder against him, great sobs escaping her lips even as she kissed him back. He pulled his lips from hers, not daring to look at her face in the interval between one kiss and another along her neck, and then one more below her collarbone, where a small freckle sat. Her own hands moved to his hair, and she drug him back to her lips, kissing him with just as much passion, claiming him for her own. He wanted to drag her onto the floor and be with her, connect with her one final time, but knew that this was not the proper situation. This was as much of a goodbye as he would get.

He remembered the sad look in her eyes as she stepped away from him, as she swept her hair up into a bun once more. The mansion was empty save for them and a few servants, and he wanted desperately for it to stay that way. He wanted to keep her there forever, but also to be able to step out of it with her—to have her in his, no, _their_ bed at night, but also to be able to walk with her in town on some sunny Sunday morning and to be able to send her little notes from his office to her at her job. But it would never happen.

He sat in the same room now, staring off at the piano that his wife never touches. Rose was the only one who had in years. Scorpius had taken lessons as a child but never found much interest in it or pursued the art. His parents hadn't either. Now, Scorpius found himself staring at the piano almost constantly.

"Darling?"

Scorpius was startled by his wife's voice from the doorway, and he shuddered at her liberal use of a pet name. He stood and turned around to see her in her fine silk shirt that clings to her swollen belly. The only reason Scorpius responded to his wife, née Myrtle Knott, is because his child grew within her. In fact, that was the only reason Scorpius ended his relationship with Rose. The world he grew up in was one he'd thought he'd escaped from long ago, a world filled with arranged marriages and family pride and propriety—one he knew he would not force is son or daughter into, no matter what Myrtle said. Though Scorpius's parents had always been fairly free-minded, allowing him to befriend Potters and Weasleys and all other sorts during his Hogwarts years, he had still been raised among the dwindling pureblooded society. He still had had young women marched before him, dressed up in old-fashioned gowns and hand-me-down jewels that no longer sparkled with the luster they had in decades and centuries past, when their mothers and grandmothers and even older ancestors had worn them. It was Myrtle Knott that his mother had selected for him. She had selected many others, of course, but Myrtle had been the one Scorpius had approved of as well, for she was the best looking and fairly intelligent and not some distant relation as other girls were, which was all that had mattered to him then. During his Hogwarts years he'd seen other girls, but also gone about courting Myrtle—taking her out here and there. He'd slept with her twice during his Hogwarts years, and found the experience pleasant enough, though there was something lacking in her expression—in the way she simply sighed when it was over and in the way that she was very, very frigid. Since then he had continued to see her, out of duty to his family and slept with her once as well, after a date on a warm April night earlier that year when everything was looking down.

But then along came Rose. It all started in their seventh year, when they were Head Boy and Girl together. However, not much came of that aside from a friendship that consisted more of passionate arguments than anything else. Scorpius knew he had fallen in love with Rose by the time the year was out, but did nothing about it—Rose was not of his world, and he was not of hers. Now that school was over, they were destined to be friends, if that. Still, after years passed by, the connection between them had not lessened. Scorpius had been working at the Ministry for five years when Rose applied for the job beneath him the May past, and they had begun talking again, and then dating, or at least seeing one another one-on-one. Their relationship only lasted a few short weeks, but Scorpius knew it was love, as did Rose. He even spent an evening in his mother's old quarters, staring at the ring she had intended for him to give Myrtle—a rather large diamond on a surprisingly thin, shiny platinum band. However, it all came crashing down in late June, before Scorpius ever had the chance to even mention the idea of marriage to Rose, with an owl from Myrtle, who was pregnant.

It was family duty that had caused him to put aside his relationship with Rose, and family duty that kept him bound to the child that grew within Myrtle. "Yes?" Scorpius asked, staring at his wife from across the room. Her long brunette hair was tied up in a tight bun. Not a curl fell loose. She was certainly no Rose.

"An owl came for you," she said, clearing her throat afterwards as she crossed the threshold, releasing her hands from behind her back to show Scorpius an envelope. "One of the servants was going to deliver it but I said I would." She forced a smile, trying to seem like a loving, doting newlywed who craved a few spare minutes with her husband.

Myrtle was always doing this—trying to be intimate and close with Scorpius when it was the last thing he wanted—and failing miserably, at that. He wondered if she knew about Rose, or at least that there had been another woman and that he had only married her out of duty, for he knew how cruel pureblooded society could be and did not want her, or him, for that matter, to suffer the consequences.

The envelope only said his name on it and the handwriting was familiar. Scorpius tore it open, curious. He had not corresponded with Al since marrying Myrtle, for Al had known of Scorpius's relationship with Rose and had been enraged at the way his best friend had broken his cousin's heart. Frowning, Scorpius took the letter out of the envelope and looked up at Myrtle, wondering if he should read it in her presence.

"I'll just be in my study," he said, attempting to smile as he walked by her.

The walk to his study seemed long in comparison to all other trips there. Once he reached it he shut and locked the door behind him before pacing to his desk, ornately carved with figures of dragons along the legs, where he sat down and unfolded the letter. Only a few lines had been written, and apparently in haste.

_Scorpius – I know it's been a few months, but we absolutely must meet. There's something very important we must discuss in private. I'll floo over to the study at Malfoy Manor at eleven tonight. Please make sure there will be no interruption. – Albus_

Still perplexed, Scorpius folded the letter and stuffed it into his pocket before leaning back in his chair and staring at his wristwatch. It was quarter after eight. He had over two hours to spare. Scorpius rubbed at his temples, wondering what exactly Albus had to tell him that was so significant. Suddenly, it hit him that something could be wrong with Rose. Scorpius nearly jumped at the thought, sitting up straight and staring down at the letter, smoothing it out so that it lay completely flat. It was clear that Al had written in haste. His handwriting was sloppier and more slanted than normal, and he'd dotted his i's with such vigor that Scorpius was sure the nub of his quill was ruined.

He remained like that for some time, pouring over the letter desperately, wondering what on earth could be wrong, until Myrtle knocked on the door half an hour later. He let her in, and she said she was feeling tired and would retire shortly.

"Are you still reading your letter?" she asked, and Scorpius hated himself for glaring at her as if nothing of his doing was her business, when in reality she was his wife and what he did _should_ be her business. Though his grandparents had been dead for years and his parents had moved off to some villa in France, it seemed to him that he was repeating some old-fashioned pattern, not only in allowing society to rule his life but in not loving his wife.

She left him alone with the letter and he poured himself a glass of brandy, which he swirled around more than he drank as he paced about the room until the clock chimed eleven. Moments later, the fireplace took on a greenish color and Al climbed out, dusting off his pants before standing up straight and staring across the room towards Scorpius.

Scorpius must have looked like a wreck, for Al crossed the room and hugged him. When he stepped away, Scorpius didn't even have time to offer Al a seat, for the other man quickly said, "I talked to Bentley Zabini today."

Scorpius frowned. The name was familiar to him—Bentley Zabini had been a fellow Slytherin at Hogwarts, two years his elder, with dark skin and features that made a majority of the female student body swoon. Scorpius had only seen him five times, in passing or at social events, since Zabini had graduated from Hogwarts twelve years ago. Scorpius couldn't imagine what he could have to do with anything. "And?" he prompted.

Al let out a sigh and walked over to the chair across from Scorpius's desk. He nodded at Scorpius, who sat down at the desk and motioned for Al to follow suit. Once both men were seated Al said, "I ran into him at that Quidditch specialty shop on…oh, what's it called? Not that one on Diagon Alley, but around the corner." Al didn't take time to ponder over the name, though, and continued with the story, his voice rushed, "Anyway, we had a discussion and someone you came up—you know, chatting about playing Quidditch together at Hogwarts." Scorpius nodded, sensing the discomfort in Al's eyes. Whatever Albus was going to say, it would obviously have some impact on Scorpius and had obviously had some impact on Albus as well.

"He said that he'd seen your wedding announcement and asked if I'd been at the wedding. He didn't say it, but I suppose he sensed it was a rather rushed affair. I said I had not, that it had been a very small ceremony from my understanding." Scorpius frowned, staring at Al, trying to determine what this had to do with anything. "And he said…well, you see, I have _no idea_ why he laid this all on me but I suppose it was weighing on him and he needed to tell _someone_."

Scorpius let out a sigh. "Get to the point, Al." His best friend had never been this nervous in his life, it seemed.

Al looked from his hands, which lied in his lap, up to Scorpius and after a moment's hesitation spat it out. "He said he was surprised Myrtle hadn't come to him first, seeing as he'd been seeing her for over a month when he saw the announcement."

Scorpius stared forward at Al, not comprehending. His voice came out strangled when he asked, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Al said, standing up, brushing his pants down once more, and beginning to pace, "that it's highly possible…that Myrtle isn't baring your child, Scorpius. It's possible she's having Zabini's, but didn't want to scandalize her family and so she married the man she was _supposed_ to."

Scorpius stood up now and finished off his glass of brandy before heading over to the decanter. He motioned to Al, who nodded, but Scorpius pushed the brandy aside, shuffling ice into both glasses and then nearly filling them both with someone stronger—firewhisky.

Al took his glass once Scorpius offered it to him, but did not so much as take a sip, though Scorpius drank a decent size portion, barely wincing before saying, "I'm not following you."

"Yes you are," Al said, placing his glass down on the corner of a sheet of paper on the desk. He pointed a finger at Scorpius. "Don't play dumb. You said yourself that you couldn't see how it happened—you said the charm, didn't you?"

Scorpius shrugged, leaning against the wall. "Yes, but that's not always effective."

"It is if you say it right," Al retorted. "Have you ever said it wrong?"

Shaking his head, Scorpius took another swig of his drink. "No."

"Then why would it fail?" Albus asked. "And furthermore," he said, slowly walking towards Scorpius, "she didn't write you until late June! Don't you think she would've known by then?"

Scorpius shook his head again. "She said she was unsure—"

"There's all sorts of charms to verify pregnancy," Al interrupted.

Scorpius stood up straight, placing his glass on the fireplace mantle nearby. "That's beside the point," he said, now pointing his own finger and stepping towards Albus. "I married Myrtle for two reasons—the first, yes, because I have been led to believe she's carrying my child. But the second is because I know how cruel this society can be and life as an unwed mother would _not_ be happy for her."

Al threw his arms out wide, raising his voice. "And this life's happy for you both?"

A grimace appeared on Scorpius's face. He reached into the pocket of his trousers to procure his wand and murmured, "_Muffliato_." He did not want Myrtle or any of the servants hearing this argument.

"And besides," Al continued, his voice only slightly quieter. "What happens when she has the baby? I don't mean to be rude, but it will be _quite_ obvious whether the child belongs to you or Zabini."

It was true. Where Scorpius was pale and blonde, Bentley was dark. "I'll worry about that when it happens," he said, returning to his desk and sitting down. Waves of humiliation suddenly poured over him. If his life was miserable now, it would be even worse then. He'd have the option to divorce Myrtle, obviously, but then _she_ would be humiliated, and it wasn't as if he hated her. In a way, Scorpius felt sorry for his wife. She was stuck in the same situation he was, it seemed. Though it was possible she didn't love Bentley as he loved Rose, she had still felt forced to go along with society's wishes and married Scorpius, the man her parents had wanted her to marry.

Al let out a sigh and Scorpius turned his gaze to him. "Look," Al said, rummaging about in his pockets. "I know you feel like you can't do anything about this, not just yet, but, well… I found this at Rose's apartment today when we were looking through old photos. I said I wanted it, but really I thought you might." He pulled the item he was looking for out of his pocket, but it was very small and Scorpius could not see what it was until Al pulled out his wand as well and tapped the item with it. The item grew and Scorpius could see that it was a picture frame, which Albus handed to him. "I think it was taken in our third year, at our first Hogsmeade trip maybe. I don't remember it being taken, and Rose didn't want to talk about it much."

Scorpius took the picture frame and looked at the photo within. A very young Al stood in the center, laughing and looking at a clearly teenage Rose, who stood to his left, her cheeks red from the cold. It was snowing and her Gryffindor scarf was wrapped around her neck. Her red curls bounced as she laughed as well. Scorpius stood to Al's right, backed away from the other two a bit. It was clear that at the time he had not known Rose well and felt a bit left out spending time with the two cousins, but he still smiled, his arms awkwardly crossed over his chest. It was clear that he felt insecure with himself at thirteen. But there was still a wide grin on his face and he was shaking his head back and forth. It seemed that Al had just told a very bad joke.

Smiling, Scorpius placed the picture frame on his desk. "So long ago. But why'd you give this to me?"

Al let out another sigh. "Because you're happy in this picture. You were happy growing up and you were happy early this summer with Rose. But the truth is, in between school and then, and especially now…" Al trailed off, stepping towards the fireplace. He reached for the bag of Floo powder stationed nearby and procured a small amount before tossing the bag back onto the floor. "Look, Scorpius. I know your life is difficult right now and that sometimes it's very hard to make the right decision. You've been very chivalrous about the matter so far, but the truth of the matter is…since when have you been chivalrous? So you need to—no, _she_ needs you to make the right decision." Scorpius was not sure if _she_ meant Rose or Myrtle. "She needs you to stop being so damn noble and just do what makes _you_ happy, and this sure as hell isn't it." And with that, Al turned around, tossed the powder into the fire while stating his address, and stepped into the fire.

Scorpius started at the fireplace for a few minutes before shaking his head and turning his gaze to the picture frame before him. _Happiness_, he thought. It was a sentiment—not tangible, not solid. But still, he knew what it felt like, and he hadn't felt it in so long. The smile on the face of his younger self, yes, that was happiness, but it was Rose who he kept looking at—young Rose with her freckles and wide smile. The image brought an older version of her to his memory, one of early that summer. A version of her laughing in the rain, putting a book away, sipping out of her glass in a fancy restaurant, waking up, a whorl of hair against her naked breast and a smile on her face.

He hadn't seen that smile in too long.

**A/N:** _Things start looking up in the next chapter. I promise._


	2. Part Two

Part Two

As a Gryffindor, Rose Weasley was supposed to be courageous.

She thought over this quite a lot one surprisingly warm morning in early March was she prepared and then ate her breakfast. It was a Saturday, and so she had off from work—a spot at the Daily Prophet she'd transferred to in early July. During her entire meal she mused over what it meant to be brave and how she apparently was a coward.

She was, after all, terrified of a simple little journal.

It was not until after she was finished her morning routine that Rose decided to get over her long withstanding fear. She'd avoided the journal for seven months, and it was time to stop being so ridiculous.

She marched over to her nightstand, tour open the top drawer, and withdrew her diary from it. She flipped to the nearest clean page, and began to write.

_I'm completely ridiculous! It's been over for seven months! SEVEN MONTHS! It's time to pick yourself up, Rose Weasley. You were only together for two months! You've seen plenty of men for longer amounts of time! Plenty of men who didn't get women they didn't love pregnant! From here on out, I vow to never, ever think of Scorpius Malfoy again!_

When she was done, she let out a calming breath and smiled down at the page before putting away her quill, letting the ink dry, and shutting the journal.

It was then that a loud crash came from her living room, sounding of metal on stone.

Startled, Rose jumped up and ran towards the living room, her socks slipping on the linoleum of her kitchen floor on the way. She reached the living room to see a man climbing out of her fireplace. He took a moment to right himself and completely forgot about brushing the soot off of his rather fine-looking pinstriped trousers. Still, even half bent-over, Rose recognized him.

_So much for never thinking about him._

"Scorpius!" Rose exclaimed, rushing to his side. "What are you doing here?" She helped him to stand up straight and met his bloodshot eyes. It was then that the smell hit her. "Oh my God, did you just take a bath in liquor?"

Scorpius laughed. "Something like that…"

She helped him to her couch, wondering why he'd shown up at her place. Perhaps it had been a drunken whim, though she wondered why he was drunk this early in the day, or perhaps he'd had difficulty speaking clearly as a result and the Floo Network had delivered him to the wrong spot. She remembered that he'd always been a rather clearheaded drunk, though, for she'd seen him on plastered on many occasions during their Hogwarts years, Head Boy or not, as well as twice during their short relationship. She wondered what he was doing here and asked him just that as she plopped down beside him.

"Sometime between my first drink about twelve hours ago and right this minute," Scorpius murmured, "I realized I've made a horrible mistake."

Rose jumped up from the couch and pointed an accusatory finger Scorpius. "Oh no," she chimed. "You are not doing this to me! Of course you made a mistake—but I am _not_ taking you back!"

Scorpius cradled his head in his hands and rubbed his face before looking up at her. "That's not what I'm saying, Rose. What I'm saying is…you know, I should've said _fuck_ society and just…just stayed with _you_."

Rose shook her head. "Oh, no, that's not true!" She sat down beside him once more and wanted to put her hand on his back but didn't dare to, for touching him would mean that he was real and alive and in her apartment, which she could not particularly handle right now, even though she was managing quite fine at the moment. "You did the noble thing, Scorpius!"

He scoffed and looked up at her. "Since when have I ever been noble, Rose?"

She nodded. "That's true…"

Scorpius returned his head to his hands, from where he murmured, "Myrtle had her child last night."

"C-congratulations," Rose sputtered, suddenly feeling incredibly uncomfortable. At first she wanted to admonish Scorpius for leaving his wife and newborn son at home, but then she realized something wasn't right. _Nine months_, she thought to herself. _The baby should have been born in February, at the latest…_

She sprang up once more, rage boiling through her. "Oh no. No, you leave now!" She pointed at Scorpius who gazed up at her. A sudden realization seemed to wash over him but she didn't question it as he jumped up. "You get out of here!" He moved towards her and grabbed onto her, and she tried to push him off of her, but he was stronger than her and she failed. His cries were drowned out by the blood pounding through her ears. "Leave!" she screamed, but after he refused to let go she finally calmed down and silently seethed, glaring up at him. _He lied. He slept with her while we were together…_

"That's not it. Rose, you have it all wrong," Scorpius said, and his voice seemed slow and unnatural as he said it. "She…the child…it's not mine."

Rose pulled out of his now relaxed grasp and turned away from him. She bit her thumb, trying to force back any excess tears, and when she felt composed enough faced him. "Then whose is it, Scorpius?"

Scorpius let out a sigh and began pacing, as he always did when feeling any extreme sort of emotion. He leaned against the wall before saying, "Bentley Zabini's."

"H…how do you know?" Rose asked, remembering the older boy from her years at Hogwarts.

Scorpius shrugged. "Al came and saw me early autumn."

"Al…?" Rose asked. "What's he…?"

Scorpius continued. "He said he'd run into Zabini, who was apparently very put off by my marriage to Myrtle. He'd been seeing her for a while before our marriage was announced." Scorpius looked up at Rose. "I didn't know what to think when Al first told me…and then when she was a week late, then two and she refused to see a Healer. Well, I didn't push her to." He looked up at Rose and the pain in his eyes was too much for her to bear. She left the living area and made her way to the dining room and kitchen, where she leaned up against a kitchen counter. He followed her and leaned against her dining table. "I knew it wasn't my child. Then when he was born last night…well, it was obvious."

"I'm so sorry," Rose murmured.

Scorpius let out a soft noise that sounded like a snort. "No, don't be," he muttered. "You see, I would have loved that boy, if he was mine…and I think I would have before he was born, had I not been so doubtful." Rose sensed him looking at her and she nervously met his gaze. "But then…well, I would have been a good father to that boy, and I know it but there was only ever one woman I wanted to have a family with. This all was a blessing, if I think about it." He paused and Rose noted his eyes becoming moist. "But I'm still angry…_so _angry. At me more than I am at Myrtle." He cleared his throat and said, "I've wasted seven months, Rose—seven months I could have had with you."

Rose let out a sob and ran towards him, taking him in her arms. He hugged her back, smoothing over her hair again and again. She wanted desperately to do more than innocently hug him, to comfort him in ways beyond words and friendly gestures, but she could not bring herself to.

He was drunk, though, and his inhibitions were lacking so he leaned down and rested his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her there. The memory of his lips against her skin was too much for her and she threw her head back. In a moment, he had her leaning against the counter and his hands were already up the back of her shirt, his fingers pressed against her spine. She wanted to kiss him, but pushed him away. "You're drunk," she choked out.

Scorpius nodded. "That's true. If you are put off by my appearance, I completely understand. However, if you worry that I am doing something reckless or regrettable, then I no longer wonder why the Sorting Hat didn't put you in Ravenclaw, for you should know that I will never, _ever_ regret wanting you…loving you…"

He kissed her then, and she immediately acquiesced, until his tongue slipped into her mouth, tasting of some sweet liquor, reminding her of his state once more. She pulled away. "We've already covered that I'm drunk," he reminded her.

"But you're _married_," she emphasized.

Scorpius shook his head. "I sent an owl to my lawyers this morning, and they're a very efficient lot. I consider myself to be separated right now and I suspect I'll have the divorce papers in a few days." Still, he stepped away from Rose. "But I understand. Just…I want you to know, I'll be here. Whenever you're ready for me, even if I have to wait until the end of the world."

He headed towards the fireplace but she stopped him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his dress shirt. "Just…just give me some time, alright?" She kissed him on the lips and pulled away and was immediately warmed by the mixture of hunger and love in his eyes.

"I love you," he said before stepping away. He picked up her bag of floo powder and tossed some into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," he called, and she was immediately reminded of the scene he would face when there. She wondered what would become of Myrtle, of her son.

But then she realized what he had just said. _I love you._

"I love you too," she called in response, just in time for Scorpius to disappear.


	3. Part Three

Part Three

Scorpius stared at the clock in the grand entryway and coughed. He'd been standing here for nearly five minutes, waiting for Albus to show up. The divorce had been finalized today and Myrtle and her son, Jonas, had moved out a week prior. Al had promised to visit, for a celebration was in order, as it seemed Scorpius finally had his life back. Al had also promised to try to get Rose to come.

The fireplace flashed and Scorpius turned his gaze to it just in time to see Al step out. Scorpius was about to say hello when the fireplace flashed again and out came Rose in a dark green dress. She finished brushing herself off faster than Albus and stood up straight to look at Scorpius, a surprisingly shy smile on her face. Her hair was down, her curls bouncing as she shook them out in case of any extra soot.

Al finished brushing off his pants and stepped towards Scorpius. "Congratulations," he said, placing his hand out. Scorpius took it and the two men shook hands. "Now, um…should we pop the champagne or something? Or are you not supposed to really 'celebrate' a divorce?"

Scorpius laughed. "I think champagne is always in order."

The group made their way down the hall to a small sitting room where a servant brought them a vintage bottle of champagne. There was as much fanfare as a small party of three could cause, but Scorpius took no notice of it, staring at Rose the entire time. It was the first time he'd seen her since he'd drunkenly flooed himself over to her place, something he would never regret doing. They hadn't even spoken since she'd arrived, and it was not until everyone had drained their first glass of champagne that Rose piped up, seeming very distressed. "Oh no!" she cried, a hand flying to her mouth. "I completely forgot!"

"Forgot what?" Scorpius asked, and she looked over at him, blushing as they exchanged their first words.

"The picture!" she exclaimed. "Al told me he gave you that picture of us three, and the two of us found another good photograph. I wanted to give it to you!"

Al shook his head. "Way to go, Rosie…"

"I'll just have to floo back and get it," Rose said, shaking her head and standing up. "I'll be—"

"Wait, no," Al commanded, standing up and motioning for Rose to sit back down. "I'll get it for you. It's on your dining table, isn't it?"

Rose nodded. "Thank you so much, Al."

Al nodded and left the room. "I'll be back shortly," he called behind him.

A quiet minute passed and then Scorpius stood up, placing his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Rose stared up at him, a demure smile on her face. "You look lovely tonight, Rose," Scorpius said, offering her his hand. She took it and stood up.

"You always liked me in dark green."

Scorpius nodded, but then said, "I like you in any color."

She kept a hold of his hand and they exited the room and began walking down the hall towards the room where they'd said their goodbye—another sitting room, the grand piano in the center. "You know," Rose said, "I find myself wishing I'd come to visit you sooner." She looked at him sideways from beneath lowered lashes and in a dreamy tone whispered, "I found myself wondering this past week what it would be like to be the dirty mistress."

Scorpius let out a scoff. "Is that so, Miss Weasley?"

Rose laughed and Scorpius watched once more as her delightful red curls bounced up and down. "Yes, but only because I was reflecting on the hypocrisy of this society of yours—"

Scorpius shook his head. "Ah, don't you worry, I no longer choose to keep society with society."

She smirked. "Let me continue, though!"

"The floor is yours."

She let go of his hand and headed towards the piano, which she leaned against quite languidly. "And though I'm glad you have your divorce and you've chosen to live your life as you wish…well, it would have been thrilling, don't you think?"

Scorpius shook his head, stepping towards her. He placed a hand on her waste and then one on her thigh, lifting her up slightly and sitting her on top of the piano and that she sat above him. His lips brushed against her collarbone and he became reacquainted with his favorite freckle nearby. "I'd rather forget about lost opportunities and just enjoy being here with you…hopefully we'll have a few more minutes alone."

"And if we are denied even that?" Rose asked, pulling away so that Scorpius looked her in the eye.

He laughed and pulled her off of the piano, kissing her in the process. "Then that's alright, because, frankly, I don't plan to spend my life with anyone else. So this should work out quite fine if your plans are in agreement with mine."

Rose laughed and pulled away from Scorpius, cupping his face in her hands. "If I can't be your mistress, I'm more than content to be your actual girlfriend once more."

"Ahh…well, I have a question about that," Scorpius said. "You see, living in this mansion alone…it's terribly lonely. And I was wondering if…well, I know it's sort of sudden being as we're just together again as of, well…today. But might you want to move in with me?"

Rose smiled. "Aren't you getting a bit ahead of yourself? I mean, we haven't even had a proper round of celebratory reunion sex."

"Oh, God," a voice called, and the couple turned to see Al in the doorway. "I've come in at completely the wrong time."

"No, it's fine!" Rose called.

However, at the same time, Scorpius said, "Yes, you have." Rose smacked at him. "What?!" he exclaimed. "We've already established that I'm selfish and I'm never going to try to do a nice, proper thing again."

Albus laughed and entered the room. "Well, I'm here anyway. And here's the picture." He handed it to Rose, who smiled and handed it to Scorpius.

Scorpius stared down at the picture. It was taken near the lake on the final day of their seventh year. Rose stood beside him, and his arm was around her. Albus had obviously taken the picture. The two looked so completely happy in it, and Scorpius remembered when the photo was taken. The image of his younger self gazed at Rose as if he was completely in love and she stared back at him as well, a similar expression on her face. _Not only did I waste seven months, but we wasted ten years before that_, he thought with a frown as he shook his head.

"We were all so happy then," Scorpius noted. "But little did I know…I'd be even happier now."

**A/N:** _I hope you liked this! You've read—now review, please!_


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